


Turning Tricks

by The_Sad_Hatter



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Fantastic Four, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Avengers Family, Blood and Gore, Enemies to Allies, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Not Thor: Ragnarok (2017) Compliant, Slow Burn, Violence, and lots of humour, but also fluff, daily updates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-26 13:41:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21375058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Sad_Hatter/pseuds/The_Sad_Hatter
Summary: One day you’re an Avenger, a superhero with a found family and an adoring public, and then in a split second it all disappears.Framed for a crime you didn’t commit, you find yourself out in the cold and desperate for a lifeline. You’ll do anything to clear your name and get back to your life, which is why you grasp onto The God Of Mischief.Loki could be your unlikely Knight In Shining Armour, if you can coax him into being a better person first. Do you have what it takes to turn the Trickster into a hero when the whole world sees you both as the villains?Succeed or fail, it’s going to be one hell of an adventure, and you’ll uncover more truth than you expected.
Relationships: Loki/Reader
Comments: 31
Kudos: 105





	1. Chain Reaction

**Author's Note:**

> So every chapter title is also a song title. We have Diana Ross kicking us off. But it's just a little Easter Egg and not necessary to the actual story at all.

“Freeze!”

You sighed heavily and raised your hands above your head, grimacing at the unfortunate sequence of events that had unfolded, leading to this moment.

There had been a period in your life when you had swung your cape around your shoulders and declared yourself the bestest supervillain in the world, cackling manically as you took over the city. But you had been five, and your cape was a blanket and the city was actually the living room furniture. You had grown out of that phase pretty quickly, and set your sights on a less evil purpose, and a more heroic one. Which is what your current situation so Ironic.

“Black Star, you are under arrest for the assassination of the president of the United States of America.”

“Yeah… I figured.” You muttered.

~~~Two Hours Earlier~~~

“So you’re telling me that Loki faked his own death, impersonated your father, took over Asgard, invested in community theatre and when you caught him he escaped and now you don’t know where he is?” Tony summed up.

“Yes.” Thor said heavily, nodding.

“Ok, seems plausible. Any questions?” Tony asked, looking around the room.

You didn’t hesitate to shoot your hand into the air, almost smacking a disgruntled Bucky in the face.

“If the Norse gods are real, does that mean the Greek Pantheon might not be myths?” You asked Thor.

“Why?” Steve asked suspiciously before the God of Thunder could answer your very important question.

“Because I want to meet them. I feel like Hades deserves a hug at the very least, and Zeus needs punched in the crotch.” You said, like it was obvious.

“Alright, any _relevant_ questions?” Tony scoffed, rolling his eyes at you and fondly mussing your hair as you batted his hands away.

“Are we sure that moving The Tesseract the Earth was the best idea?” Sam asked.

“The only people who know where it is are in this room, that makes it safer now than when it was in the vaults of Asgard.” Thor assured.

“So we keep it’s location secret, we protect the Infinity Stone from Loki and anyone else who wants it.” Steve decreed.

“Sounds reasonable. So shall we move onto the matter of who has to go to that conference at the WTC with The President? Not it!” Tony said, looking around the room gleefully.

“Not it.” Natasha and Clint said in unison.

“Not it.” Steve said sheepishly. Shrugging apologetically.

“Can I go? I’ve never done one of these, I’ve never even met the President.” You asked hopefully.

“Ah to be so young and naive… sure kid, you can do it, Happy will drive you.” Tony chuckled.

It was just a mandatory update on the current Avengers missions and a photo-op, you didn’t see how bad it could be. What’s the worst that could happen?

One briefing from Pepper later and a karaoke filled car journey with Happy later, you walked into the heavily fortified building to meet the President. As it was a photo-op, and you’d been told to do so, you were wearing your super suit.

The tight kevelar-like material wasn’t half as tight or heavy as it looked, thanks to Tony’s genius it was actually really breathable and comfortable, but it sure as hell looked intimidating. The black and purple cape around your shoulders, coupled with the purple Star emblazoned on your chest made you instantly recognisable to the army of security officers . They didn’t bother checking you for weapons, why would they? You _were_ the weapon. You walked through the metal detector unhindered, throwing friendly smiles at all the terse looking guards.

“Louie, hows the kids?” You called, waving at a 6ft tank of a man.

“My name is Antoni, and I don’t have kids.” He dead-panned.

“Spoilsport.” You muttered.

“The President is waiting for you Miss Star.” Louie/Antoni informed you, waving you through a set of heavy metal doors, that opened after scanning his eyeball.

“That’s not my name either, _Antoni_.” You sarked.

“Touche.” He whispered, the corner of his lips twitching.

Seems the tank had personality, he just didn’t show it in front of his colleagues.

He knocked a specific pattern on a door and waited a moment, frowning when there was no response.

“Stay behind me.” He ordered, drawing his firearm.

“Dude, I’m a superhero, sure you don’t wanna go behind me?” You offered half-seriously.

He glanced at you appraisingly, like he was weighing up the offer seriously, before he shook his head minutely.

“No, I’m sure it’s nothing.” He said, pushing the door open with one hand, his gun held steadily in the other.

As soon as the door opened he swore loudly and hit the comm unit in his ear.

“This is White Knight, The President is down, I repeat the president is down.”

His words had barely registered with you when the lights all flickered out and turned red, and the loudest alarm you had ever heard in your life sounded. You pushed past him and into the room, drawing in your breath sharply at the carnage.

Several bodies were strewn around, and right at the head of the long table, there lay the President of The United States. Or most of him. You could see the rest of the room through the gaping hold in his chest, a large circular wound that was still smoking at the edges.

“What? That’s… What?” You muttered, looking down at your hands.

The fatal injury was very, very specific, and familiar. If you didn’t know better, you’d say that it looked like you’d caused it. You had a bad feeling about this.

“Get down!” Antoni yelled, pushing you out of the way and sending you sprawling into the table as his gun fired several shots. You whirled around and blanched at the sight before you.

A beam of dark energy shot from the barrel of a gun, slicing straight through Antoni’s chest, too quickly for you to stop it, because you were too busy staring at the person holding the gun.

It was you.

You, or someone who looked exactly like you, wielding a gun that replicated your powers, had killed the President.

Their finger started to squeeze the trigger again, to finish Antoni off and you raised your hand, feeling the blood and energy pulsate down your arm and out of your palm. The dark light, black at first glance, but a deep purple when you really looked. Blazed across the room and knocked the gun out of the way.

“Son of bitch. Who are you?” You hissed. 

Whoever it was, if they had been about to answer, they never got the chance because there was a blinding flash of light and when you could see again, smoke was rapidly filling the room. The fake you was gone, as was the gun, and you saw a flash in the corner of your eye as the assassin used the gun to blast through the wall. You quickly glanced at Antoni, who was rapidly bleeding out on the floor.

“Go. Catch them.” He rasped, a trickle of blood bubbling out of his lips.

Catch the killer, or save Antoni? It was an impossible choice, but you couldn’t let an innocent man die, it wasn’t who you were, it wasn’t what you had been trained for. You knelt down beside him and pressed your hands against the hole in his chest, trying to stem the bleeding.

“Run, Star, Run. It’s a setup.” He croaked weakly.

“Well then I’d appreciate it if you didn’t die so you can tell your buddies that.” You joked.

He wheezed heavily, and then his chest stopped falling and his head rolled to the side, his eyes staring blankly across the room.

“Antoni, don’t you dare.” You begged.

How did you administer CPR to somehow who was missing most of their chest?

“NO!” You shouted, as the harsh reality set it.

You were the only one left standing in a room full of dead bodies that had been killed by your powerset, and the blood was quite literally on your hands. You heard the footfalls of a dozen agents before they stormed the room, mask covering their faces to let them see through the smoke, and what a sight it was for them.

“Freeze!”

You sighed heavily and raised your hands above your head, grimacing at the unfortunate sequence of events that had unfolded, leading to this moment.

There had been a period in your life when you had swung your cape around your shoulders and declared yourself the bestest supervillain in the world, cackling manically as you took over the city. But you had been five, and your cape was a blanket and the city was actually the living room furniture. You had grown out of that phase pretty quickly, and set your sights on a less evil purpose, and a more heroic one. Which is what your current situation so Ironic.

“Black Star, you are under arrest for the assassination of the president of the United States of America.”

“Yeah… I figured.” You muttered.

Even if you could convince anyone you weren’t responsible, it was going to be impossible to prove your innocence. You’d be lucky if they sent you to the raft to be honest, the President was dead, they’d want your head on a stake.

“Sorry folks, but this party’s gotten a little too intense for me.” You announced, releasing a blast of power from your hands into the ceiling.

As brick and plaster rained down on the room you dove through the hole in the wall your doppelganger had made and ran down the adjoining corridor. There was a second hole further down, one that led outside the building, and you could see the sky through it. You put on a burst of speed as the agents gave chase, and gunshots exploded around you, a bullet clipping you in the shoulder as you made it to the hole and leapt through it.

It didn’t really matter that you were several stories above the ground, the Blackstar energy warming your blood as your instincts kicked in and your cape rippled behind you as you hurtled towards the ground, but instead of crashing into the concrete, you neatly skimmed it and turned your body until you were shooting back up the side of the building and beyond, until you were heading towards the sky and to safety.

You flew away from the scene as fast as your abilities allowed, your heart racing and your mind whirling.

From the outside, it looked pretty cut and dry. You had killed the leader of the free world and then fled.

You needed to find the real killer and prove you weren’t guilty, find out why they had killed the president and stop whatever nefarious plot had been set in motion. But you couldn’t go back to the compound, that’s the first place people would be looking for you, and you couldn’t openly involve any of the other Avengers in this lest they be accused of being in on it.

You were completely fucked.

And you were still bleeding from the bullet wound in your shoulder. Which actually gave you an idea. You needed a doctor.

Doctor Strange could contact the Avengers and tell them what had really happened.

You needed to get to The Sanctum.

You had no idea that you weren’t the only wanted criminal thinking the same thing, and as you flew through the Sky towards what you hoped would be a safe place, it was currently being broken into by The God of Mischief.


	2. Hungry Eyes

You knew that Strange had certain allowances set up for The Avengers, yourself included. The Sanctum was well protected from ‘normies’ and ‘baddies’ as Clint would say, but you landed on the roof without hinderance. There was a thin sheen of sweat on your brow from over exerting yourself. Your powers were easy to summon but maintaining them had a cost. You were slightly fatigued, and despite the sweat, you were already chilled. You fought off a shiver as you headed for the door, stopping dead in your tracks when you saw it was wide-open.

That was unusual, and a little worrying. Or considering your current situation, a lot worrying. You cracked your knuckles and readied yourself for whatever you might find inside, physically and mentally.

Visions of swat teams, and secret agents danced through your head, so when you made it to the heart of the Sanctum and saw who the intruder was, you found yourself strangely relived.

You leant casually against the doorframe and coughed softly to get his attention.

The God of Mischief looked up at you and froze, not in fear, but like a viper about to strike.

“You would not believe the day I am having.” You sighed heavily, shaking your head in exasperation.

He looked bemused by the casual jump into conversation for a moment.

“How so?” He asked, seemingly as a reflex.

“Oh, made a new friend, had said friend die five minutes later, got framed for the biggest crime of this generation. And by now, I am being pursued by every police officer, secret agent, superhero and Vigilante this side of the Atlantic.” You shrugged.

“That does sound irksome.” He agreed.

“Quick question, did you kill the President?” You asked him seriously.

He looked taken aback for a second before his eyes flickered down to the dried blood on your hands.

“No. Did you?” He rebutted.

“Apparently.” You sighed.

On any other day, catching Loki like this would elicit a very different reaction from you, a more heroic one, but like you’d said, today was a bad day. Loki was pretty much the least of your worries right now, and so long as he didn’t try to stab you, you weren’t going to waste energy trying to take him in. Even if that meant having an almost pleasant conversation with him, like you were old friends and not complete strangers and natural enemies.

“So the crime you are being framed for, it was the assassination of the mortal politician?” He checked.

“Not just framed, flawlessly framed. I am completely screwed, that’s why I’m here, I need Strange’s help. Where is he anyway? Please tell me you didn’t kill him.” You groaned.

“That’s the second time you have accused me of murder little mortal, and I don’t even know your name.” He pointed out with a touch of amusement.

“You aren’t denying it.” You rebutted.

“No, I did not kill the sorcerer. I waited until he was gone so I could search the building without hindrance.” He elaborated, rolling his eyes at you.

“Search for what?” You asked, as if you didn’t know.

“A way off of this insipid realm and far away. I am looking for an escape from this side of the universe before it brings me any more pa… annoyance.” He told you.

“I don’t suppose you’d give me a ride?”

“I beg your pardon?” He frowned.

“I’m not sure how to clear my name when the killer wore my face and used a gun that replicated my powers and the only witness is dead. I’m public enemy number one now, so other side of the Universe is sounding pretty good.” You explained.

He tilted his head at you curiously, studying you.

“Show me.” He demanded.

“Show you…..”

“Your powers.” He elaborated.

You weren’t sure why he was asking, but despite his villainous reputation you weren’t getting and bad vibes from him, he just seemed curious, and slightly impatient. You held your hand out and let a shimmering dark orb of Blackstar energy form in your palm. It shifted like smoke over your skin before it rippled, liquifying until it was an orb of shimmering liquid and then finally hardened into a perfectly smooth obsidian orb.

“Fascinating.” Loki breathed out, watching in awe as you let it break apart and absorbed it back into your skin.

“It’s a type of energy I can produce, and to an extent, control. I can make it tangible…”

“It’s called Darkforce.” Loki interrupted.

You blinked owlishly at him.

“It’s called what now?” You asked in a high-pitched voice.

“It’s a negative energy drawn from another dimension.” He said reverently.

“Is not. It’s inside me, I can feel it in my blood.” You argued.

“There have been other Darkforce users before you, even those with seiðr can, to an extent, summon it.” He argued back, holding his hand out in front of him.

His palm glowed green for a flash before a dark mist covered it. You had to admit, it looked eerily similar to your power, but not exactly. The smoke Loki had produced was pitch black, not a dark amethyst colour like yours.

You found yourself walking towards him in a trance, utterly bespelled with the power he was showing you. You reached your hand out to his without thinking about it, touching the smoke. It dissipated and only then you realised your hand was practically in his. You looked up at him and his inquisitive eyes met your startled ones.

“So the person framing me can summon this ‘Darkforce’ and they’re a shapeshifter… Pity I Don’t know anybody who can do both of those things.” You said suspiciously.

He yanked his hand away and curled his fingers closed at the accusing tone in your voice.

“I told you, it wasn’t me.”

“Yeah, but, god of lies and all that.” You reasoned.

“You said the assassin used a gun. Why would I do that? And, if you must know, even the strongest seiðr wielders only have limited ability with Darkforce.” He sighed, seeming almost disappointed with your accusations.

As someone who was currently wanted for a crime they didn’t commit, you could understand his resentment.

“Alright Tricks, I believe you. Whatever Mischief you are up to, it has nothing to do with me.” You said. 

“The can I assume that you have not been distracting me while my Brother and his idiotic friends valiantly race to your side?” He asked teasingly.

“Oh. Should have probably done that, shouldn’t I? Woops. Well, I won’t tell if you don’t.” You said meekly, winking at him.

He looked at you like you were a puzzle he couldn’t figure out, before his lips twitched.

“It shall be our little secret.” He promised.

“Well, it’s been a pleasure.” You told him, walking backwards towards the door.

“I suspect the pleasure was all mine.” He purred.

You’d forgotten the silver-tongue. Silly you.

You gave him one last wave and left the room.

“Oh, it’s not here by the way.” You said nonchalantly, popping your head back around the door.

He regarded you with an innocent expression, raising an eyebrow slightly at your proclamation.

“The Tesseract… That is what you were looking for, right? Yeah, Thor had The Avengers hide it in a top secret location.” You told him smugly.

His eyes narrowed dangerously and his jaw ticked in annoyance. He could see right through you, but you weren’t exactly trying to be subtle.

“As diabolical as you believe me to be, I am far less of a threat than whomever has sullied your name, and I would be even less of a threat still if I were on the other side of the Universe.” Loki drawled.

“Funny, that’s what I was thinking too Tricks.” You smirked.

“Very well, let’s not dance around it. I help you prove your innocence and you give me The Tesseract, do we have an accord?”

Was it a wise idea? No.

Would The Avengers approve? Also no.

Should you do it? Good Lord no.

But you were up shit creek without a paddle, and you were willing to make a deal with the Devil if it gave you a lifeline.

By your estimation, you had helped save the world several times over, that sort of cancelled out Loki’s one attempt at taking over it. And if he wanted to take The Tesseract and run to the far ends of creation and get away from his past then you failed to see the harm in it.

Besides, whoever had killed The President probably didn’t have anything altruistic planned, or they wouldn’t have framed a Superhero for it. Bringing the real villain to justice was the most imperative goal here.

That tiny little voice in your head that always called you out on your bad decisions, the one you always ignored, it whispered the truth in your ear. You were scared and you’d cut a deal with Loki to save your own ass.

“Deal. But I’m going to need you to tell me more about this Darkforce.” You bartered.

“So you get two things out of our deal and I get one.” He said disapprovingly.

“I’ll tell you where the Tesseract is and I won’t tell The Avengers you’re on Earth, or hand you over to them.” You offered.

“That seems fair.” He said after a moments deliberation.

With any luck, you could clear your name and uphold your end of the bargain with Loki without anyone finding out you had done it.

He held out his hand to you, and you had to laugh at the notion of making a handshake deal with a Norse god, but you did put your hand in his. He abruptly yanked you forward and tilted his head so he was towering over you intimidatingly.

“If you think you can betray me, think again.” He warned.

“Because you’ll turn me into a bug and step on me? Put me under a sleeping curse? Disembowel me and make me eat my own liver?” You listed off brightly.

“I…” He stopped and frowned, looking at you like he was questioning your sanity.

“You’re taking all the fun out of threatening you.” He damn near pouted.

“Sorry, sorry. Go ahead, I’m ready.” You assured, putting on your best fearful expression.

He sighed heavily, his breath ruffling your hair, he was that close to you. You bit down a grin as best you could and batted your eyelashes at him innocently.

“Who are you?” He asked, but it sounded more like he was asking what was wrong with you.

“I’m Blackstar.” You supplied helpfully.

“No, who are you, not what do people call you.” He clarified, still gripping your hand in his and peering down at you.

“If you really want to know, I suggest we find somewhere a bit more secure. There will be hell to pay if Strange finds us here, or even worse, Wong.” You stalled.

It’s not that you didn’t want to tell him who you were, you just didn’t know where to start.

“Very well Stjarna.” He agreed.

“Not that I’m not enjoying our little intimate moment, but are you going to hold my hand all day or?” You smirked.

He glanced down like he hadn’t even realised he was still holding it, and dropped it with a blank, uncaring expression.

“Follow me, I know somewhere we can go where we will not be disturbed.” He ordered, stalking away from you.

You blew out a breath and looked around the room. This was it, your last chance to back out of this obviously terrible idea. You almost did, but then you remembered the way you had found the presidents body, and the way you had been found next to it. Loki might be the devil, but it was better the devil you knew.

“Hey, can you like cloak me or illusion me? Or turn me into a mouse and carry me in your pocket?” You yelled, hurrying after him.

For better or worse, you had made your choice, and there was no turning back now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if I have just been gone too long, or this story isn't appealing to people, but dammit i WILL persevere! 
> 
> Darkforce is an actual thing in the Marvelverse and Blackstar is the latest in a line of characters who can play with it, but her relationship with it and origins are from my *twisted imagination* 
> 
> So, what do we think about the first Trickstar meeting? I think it went well!
> 
> Next chapter, we learn how Blackstar became a part of The Avengers, and as we know, I'm a slut for the family trope, so who do we think her connection is with? I'm intrigued to see who you think it is!


	3. Sweet Child O' Mine

When Loki had said he knew of a safe place, this had not been what you were expecting.

“Seriously?” You asked, looking around, rubbing your cheeks to make sure you didn’t have whiskers anymore.

He had taken your request to be shape-shifted into a mouse a little too seriously, but you wouldn’t admit to him that you’d had the time of your life, sitting in his pocket as he walked unnoticed through the streets of New York.

“What were you expecting?” He asked.

“Not this. I can’t believe you have the Avengers whipped up into a frenzy about where you are and what you’re doing, all the while you’re living in a Penthouse in Manhattan! How did you even get this place? You’re not an Earthling, you don’t have a bank account…. Do you?” You looked at him in alarm.

Did Loki have a secret identity? Did he have a 401k and a job? He just gave you a look that made it clear he wasn’t going to answer.

Spoilsport.

“Fine. Let’s get down to business. How do we find an assassin who could be anywhere, or anyone? We have no leads.” You sighed.

“We have one, and I have already figured out how to find them, but before we do, I want to know who I am working with.” He said dryly.

“I told you, I’m Blackstar. I’m an Avenger.” You said sweetly, hoping he would drop it.

“And I told you, that’s not enough. You weren’t an Avenger the last time I tangled with them and I know nothing of you.” He pushed.

You flopped down onto the nearest chair dramatically and mentally prepared yourself to tell him as much of the truth as you could stomach.

“Ok, I guess it’s storytime.” You grouched.

He sat down opposite you and pompously waved his hand for you to begin.

“Once Upon A Time there was a mighty King who went into battle. After he defeated his enemies and protected his people, he found a baby in the snow, abandoned to die in the cold. The King was a cold and often cruel man, but when he saw the innocent child, dying in the bitter cold, his heart went out to the wretched creature and he gathered it into his arms and took it back to his castle to nurse it back to health.” You started.

“That’s not how It happened.” Loki interrupted, his voice acidic.

“Excuse me, I’m the one telling the story.” You snapped back.

“You’re supposed to be telling me who you are, not rehashing ancient history.”

“That’s the point of the story Tricks, I _am_ telling you who I am.” You smirked.

He frowned, and you could see the conflicting emotions flicker across his face, but eventually the curiosity won out over the impatience and displeasure and he nodded for you to continue.

“The King nursed the baby back to health, and in doing so, opened his heart to the child. He decided to raise the child as his own, and to make sure she was never abandoned in the cold again.”

“She?” Loki barked incredulously.

“I told you, this is my story.” You scoffed.

He looked absolutely gobsmacked. You waited for him to say something, but he just stared at you with wide eyes.

“The King was perceived as a villain, and he was, but never to his daughter. He kept her away from his evil plans, and kept her existence a secret from the world so she wouldn’t be targeted by his enemies. When his plot for world domination was foiled and he was captured, the girl was discovered by his enemies and given to a one-eyed man with a bad temper. The girl was allowed to see her father one last time, and he made her swear not to make his mistakes, so she vowed to become a hero, and use her powers for good.”

_“They will have already decided who you are, because of who I am. But you can’t let them decide for you, and you can’t ley my path be yours as well. Forge your own, rise above the expectations they place on you, and know that I will always be proud of you.” _

You sighed and dragged yourself out of the memories, dropping the fairy-tale charade. After all, that was where the fairy-tale ended. Loki was looking at you like he was only just really seeing you, but you could tell there was a shadow of something dark behind his eyes.

“What did Thor tell you of me?” He demanded.

“Honestly?”

“Preferably.” He sassed.

“That you are a bit of a dick.” You said apologetically.

“That’s what he said?”

“I’m paraphrasing.” You snorted. “He said you were adopted but you didn’t know and you’re like a snow troll or something. He also said you’re deeply misunderstood and you’ve made questionable choices but he doesn’t believe that you’re evil.” You elaborated.

“Snow Troll?!” He repeated, aghast.

“I think that was it… Or, judging by your reaction, maybe not. Ice imp?” You shrugged.

“Frost Giant.” He deadpanned, levelling you with a glare.

“No, I don’t think that was it. Frozen Ogre?” You tried.

“I’m am a Jotun, a Frost Giant. And I was not adopted, I was taken by Odin from a frozen rock after I was abandoned to die on it.” He hissed.

You opened your mouth and then closed it again, startled by his proclamation.

“So… You were, We were…. What?!”

“We were both left to freeze to death as infants, yes.” He said bitterly.

“Oh.” You whispered.

It was such an ironic twist of events that you didn’t know what to say. What were the chances that you both had the same start in life, even if you had ended up in very different places?

“So, do you think we can work together now, for both our benefit?” You asked nervously.

Would this strange connection make him more receptive to helping you, or push him away?

“Yes, yes I think we can.” He said, his voice the softest you had heard it.

“So what’s the lead?” You asked excitedly, sitting forwards in your seat.

“The gun. Darkforce can be harnessed with technology, but not easily. If someone from this realm has managed to do it, that’s how you will find them.”

An idea started forming in your head, and you smirked.

“If we can take readings from my Darkforce, we can use them to search for similar signals.”

“That should work, yes. It will require access to equipment so I suggest we…” He began.

“My father has warehouses and labs all over the world, under shell corporations. I may have forgotten to tell Shield about all of them.” You interrupted.

“Where is your father?” He asked suspiciously.

“He escaped his prison, went back to his Kingdom, but he was caught again last year and imprisoned by The Fantastic Four.” You answered, swallowing thickly.

You neglected to mention that he’d had help in his escape, or that he was taken down by the Fantastic Four after trying to kill Reed Richards.

“His Kingdom? You mean to tell me he really is a King?” He said, surprised.

Your fathers ‘Kingdom’ or country was indeed a very real place, and well-protected. If you couldn’t clear your name, they would shelter you, but it would create more problems of it’s own if you were to flee there. But that didn’t mean your dad couldn’t still help you.

“He is, he’s a King and a Supervillain. My father is Victor Von Doom, King of Latveria.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, now we know why Star is so comfortable around a villain.... and her and Tricks have something in common. 
> 
> But there's a lot more you don't know about her, like how she ended up with the Avengers, and who took care of her when Victor was incarcerated. 
> 
> Any thoughts? Musings? Suspicions? Complaints.


	4. Start Me Up

“A massive manhunt is underway for the former hero known as Black Star, as a shroud of mourning blankets the country. Not much is known about the incident that occurred just a few hours ago, but what we do know is that The President was killed in an attack by The Avenger. Her whereabouts are currently unknown and anyone with any information is encouraged to come forward at once.”

“Oh look, they’re even offering a reward.” You muttered bitterly as you watched the news report.

“Is it a decent reward?” Loki enquired curiously.

“Don’t even think about it.” You snapped at him, closing the video.

You were stood in the abandoned warehouse that held a trove of your fathers inventions and equipment. There were dozens like this one worldwide, but this one in Queens was the closest.

“This looks promising.” Loki called out, inspecting a machine.

“I think it was designed for Gamma but it should work for Darkforce, theoretically.” You shrugged, turning the control screen on.

“Allow me.” Loki suggested, trying to sidle in front of you.

“I’ve got it.” You muttered.

“It will be quicker if you let me.” He insisted.

“How? This is Earth tech.” You frowned.

“Which is remarkably simple and primitive, move out of the way please.” He said exasperatedly.

“No. My dad’s warehouse, my rules.” You snapped.

You crossed your fingers that your dads old passwords would get you into the system and started to type when you were shoved out of the way.

“This will go much quicker if I do it.” Loki said calmly as he stepped up to take your place at the monitor.

“Did you just push me?” You demanded, straightening yourself up and blowing a stray lock of hair off your forehead.

“No.” He deadpanned.

“Yes, yes you did.” You insisted.

“If you are so sure, why did you ask?” He pointed out.

You narrowed your eyes at him and debated pushing him back out of the way.

“Don’t even think about it.” He warned.

“You don’t know what I was thinking.” You pouted.

“I do so.”

“You’re such a child.”

“And you’re infuriating, even for a mortal. Go and stick your hand in that glass tank.” He ordered.

“Is that some weird Asgardian insult?”

He sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“The machine needs a sample of the Darkforce so I can calibrate it to search for it. Hand, tank, now.” He instructed through gritted teeth.

“Oh. Fine.” You said meekly and did as you were told.

You unclipped the top of the tank and stuck your hand inside, pushing out the dark energy until the glass was filled with a dark purple smoke.

“Close it.” Loki called over.

“I can’t, my hands in it.”

“Take your hand out you imbecile.” He snarled.

“But….”

He shot you an acidic look and you quickly yanked your hand out of the tank and closed it. You knelt down so you were at eye level with the glass and watched the smoke swirl about inside it. For a few moments the only sound was Loki clicking away at the controls until his voice startled you out of your vigilant observation.

“What did you do when you found out?”

“When I found out what?” You muttered distractedly, unable to tear your eyes away from the tank with your ‘Darkforce’ in it.

“That you were not your fathers child.” He said tonelessly.

You looked up at his carefully schooled expression.

“I didn’t try to commit genocide if that’s what you’re asking.” You said gently.

“Weren’t you angry?” He frowned.

“Tricks… I… I never ‘found out’, because I always knew. Victor didn’t hide it from me. I mean, he said that I was a gift left for him in the snow but I figured out the truth when I was eight or so.”

He silently dismissed your response and turned back to the screen so you couldn’t see his face. You felt slightly guilty, even though it wasn’t your fault. It was like some kind of messed up riddle. Two children are abandoned in the snow. One is found by a good King, and the other is found by an Evil King. Which child grows up to be a homicidal psychopath and which child is loved and cherished?

You tried to imagine what your life would have been like if Victor had lied to you about what you were and where you had come from, if he had messed with your sense of self-worth by pitting you against someone else. You couldn’t stretch your imagination that far though, because the truth was that Victor Von Doom was a great father. Too good at times, you were a tad spoilt and you knew it. And he had always supported your endeavours. He may be a villain but the day after your first public fight as a Hero, he had somehow sent you a copy of the newspaper article that detailed your exploits. Written in his handwriting, under the article were four words.

_I’m proud of you. _

The machine let out a series of short beeps and you bounced on your heels excitedly.

“It’s done.” Loki told you, rolling his eyes at your eagerness.

“Yay.” You whispered under your breath, prising the chamber open and sticking your hand inside.

You let out a loud sigh of relief as you absorbed the power back into your body.

“Do you always reabsorb it?” Loki asked.

“Yeah. That’s why people call me Blackstar. When I reabsorb a particularly large blast when I’m flying, for a brief moment I look like a dark star in the sky.” You explained.

“And you’ve mastered the tangibility of the Darkforce?” He questioned.

“Kind of. It’s easier in smaller bouts, but it’s much easier to make it solid in quicker, larger blasts. If I shoot a blast at something or someone, the ‘Darkforce’ is usually completely solid by the time it hits them.” You elaborated.

“You’re doing it backwards.” Loki muttered.

“Pardon?” You frowned.

“In it’s weaker state, Darkforce is a shadowy or some-like substance, as it grows stronger it can become liquidised, and in it’s strongest state, it becomes solid matter. You able to use it in it’s strongest form, but struggle to control it in it’s weaker states. You’re doing it backwards.”

“Well, if that doesn’t just sum me up.” You snorted.

“Quite.” He agreed with a teasing smirk.

“Have you located it yet?” You grouched, rolling your eyes at him.

“Not yet.”

“Fine, I’m going to take a look around and see if there’s anything useful in this place.” You muttered, wandering away from him.

Most of the stuff was vaguely familiar to you. You’d seen most of this stuff, or stuff like it in both your childhood and your time with The Avengers. Nearly everything in this warehouse reminded you of Victor and you felt your heart grow a little heavier.

You crouched down next to a discarded piece of sheet metal and wiped away a layer of dust, uncovering the Von Doom Industries logo.

“I love you dad.” You whispered softly, stroking your fingers across the logo.

“I…. love…. love…. You… too.” Someone stuttered.

You froze at the sound.

“Tricks. TRICKS.” You whisper hissed, but you must have been too far away for him to hear you.

Or he was ignoring you.

“Love…… you.”

You whipped your head around to the direction the voice was coming from and crept over to it, on high alert. There was a large metal crate in the corner of the room and you were relatively sure that’s where the voice was coming from.

“Love….”

You winced nervously and reached out to quickly yank the lid off the crate. As soon as you did and saw what was inside you shrieked and slammed it closed again.

“Oh my god!” You screeched.

Something grabbed your shoulder and you screamed again, almost blasting your attacker before you realised it was Loki.

“What’s wrong?” He demanded, and you noticed a wickedly sharp dagger clutched in his hand.

You whimpered and pointed at the crate.

“Lo…lo…love” The crate said.

“My dad’s in the crate.” You whispered.

Loki’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline.

“Your father? Is in the crate?” He repeated, looking utterly befuddled.

“Well, a dadbot, I mean doombot. A broken doombot.” You clarified.

Your words unsurprisingly didn’t clear the matter up for him and he strode over to the crate and pulled it open.

“Ah.” He said when he saw the Doombot stuffed inside, wires hanging out and the face barely attached.

“I hate those things.” You winced.

“Things plural? There’s more than one of them?” He asked, inspecting a stray wire.

“Yeah, they’re kinda dads thing. This one looks like it got on the wrong side of Ben Grimm.” You said, peering over Loki’s shoulder, using him as a shield.

“Lo….ve”

“Are you afraid of robots?” Loki asked, looking back at you with something akin to amusement.

“No, I just… It’s broken. It’s sad. And weird…. Kill it.” You pleaded, like you were asking him to take care of a spider of something.

You weren’t afraid of the Doombots, or as you called them ‘Dadbots’, it just bothered you that most of the time, they didn’t know they weren’t real. This one was a mess, and it was still trying to tell you it loved you, so yeah, you were a bit creeped out and just wanted the poor thing put out of its misery.

Loki studied it for a few moments before he grabbed a handful of the wires and tore them out. The Doombot went silent and you breathed a sigh of relief.

“If you’re done screaming at technology, I think I have located your imposter.” Loki said dryly.

You slammed the crate closed a final time and patted the lid.

“Make fun of me all you like but don’t think I didn’t notice you come running to save me when I screamed.” You taunted.

“Of course I came to save you.” He said like it was obvious.

You preened a little at his admission, smiling softly at him. He shook his head a little and smiled back at you.

“After all, Princess.” He said softly, leaning into you. “I need you alive to show me to The Tesseract.” He whispered softly in your ear, before he turned on his heel and strutted away.

“Aww, come on, we were having a moment. You ruined it!” You yelled at his retreating form.

“Come along Princess.” He shouted back.

“Dick.” You muttered under your breath.

You looked awkwardly back at the crate and tapped the lid.

“Bye dad.” You snorted before you scurried after the God of Mischief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couldn't resist having a Doombot, or a Dadbot, in there. 
> 
> TrickStar are turning into a buddycop movie and I'm not even mad about it. 
> 
> Feed me. With feedback. Please. Pleeeeeaaase. I'm getting so little feedback on this story compared to all my others and it's scaring the shit out of me!

**Author's Note:**

> So after being absent from writing for a while (family issues) I am super nervous about getting back in the game and I NEED to know what you thought. 
> 
> Blackstar aka Star's powers will be explored/explained more in chapter 2, but I wanted to delve right in at the action. 
> 
> P.S - The fic title is a pun... Loki's nickname in this one is "Tricks." So I guess that makes their ship name... Trickstar?


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